


Mirror!Space Pirate Jim

by blue_jack



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Mirror Universe
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mirror Universe, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-21
Updated: 2010-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s what space pirates do after all, plunder and pillage."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror!Space Pirate Jim

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Space Pirate Jim](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/12373) by graceandfire. 



> This is a remix of [](http://graceandfire.livejournal.com/profile)[**graceandfire**](http://graceandfire.livejournal.com/)'s awesome fic [Space Pirate Jim](http://graceandfire.livejournal.com/17999.html) for the [](http://issenterprise.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://issenterprise.livejournal.com/)**issenterprise** Remix Challenge.
> 
> Beta’d by the super wonderful caitri.

Leonard McCoy downed the glass of bourbon and told himself the marriage was a good idea. And it was. It would be.

It had to be.

He rubbed his hand over his mouth and took in a deep breath through his nose.

Jocelyn was . . . hell, she was pretty and smart and had a sharp wit that he appreciated when it wasn’t pointed in his direction. On the few occasions they’d met, it had been easy to talk to her, easier still to look at her, at her breasts that would overflow in his hands, at her legs that stretched on for miles. Marriages had been made on less. His parents’ marriage for one. They’d only seen holos of each other before the big day, something his mother pointed out over and over again. Yeah, he got it. Didn’t mean he had to like it though.

But Jocelyn was a nice enough girl, and their families approved and, damn it, that was how things were done nowadays. He was the heir to the biggest fucking fortune in the galaxy, rah fucking rah. And that meant he had to marry some other heir to a smaller, but still respectable, fortune so all that money could come together and procreate and make baby money that would then grow up to make even more baby money, and he was taking the damn metaphor too far, but what else could a person be expected to do on the day he was getting married?

Fuck it. He could do this. He _had_ to do it. Marriage meant his great-grandfather’s trust kicked in, meant Leonard would be independently wealthy, free and clear of the family strings. Marriage meant he could put the McCoy money to some use other than compounding, could finally do something _good_ with it.

And . . . affection would come eventually. At least, he hoped it would. He wasn’t fool enough to believe in love. And Jocelyn really wasn’t a bad choice. Maybe not the person he would’ve picked for himself, but he'd known by the time he was fourteen that choice was a luxury even he didn't have. With his family's level of wealth, Leonard's marriage had far-reaching consequences, and the Emperor himself had given his parents an approved list of marriage candidates from which his parents had selected the best.

He flinched at the polite knock on his door, letting him know he had five more minutes before he was expected to go down. He was tempted to pour himself another glass, but Jocelyn didn't deserve to be embarrassed by a drunken groom, and his mother wouldn't hesitate to express her disappointment in no uncertain terms once the guests had disappeared. For such a small, genteel woman, she had a mean right hook.

Leonard was just about to finish off his glass when an arm came around from behind him and plucked the tumbler from his hand.

“What the hell?” He whirled around, glowering. “Damn it, I was coming down! There was no reason to barge in and . . .” His voice tapered off as he stared at the locked door.

“Mmm, I haven’t had anything this good since we came across that luxury cruise ship last year.” Leonard looked back at the guy and watched as he licked his lips, eyes closed, apparently savoring the remnants of his bourbon. It was a sensual expression, and Leonard felt an inappropriate stirring of heat mingle with the caution bubbling low in his stomach. “You’ve got good taste, McCoy.”

“Who the hell are you, and how did you get into this room?”

The intruder opened his eyes, a clear, sharp blue, and smiled lazily, tossing the glass over his shoulder so it fell to the carpet and rolled, coming to a stop against the leg of the coffee table. “Jim Kirk, at your service.”

Looking at him, Leonard highly doubted it. He couldn’t believe he’d mistaken Kirk for a servant, even for a second. Not only was the man wearing clothes his mother would have burned before allowing into her home, he apparently didn’t possess a single shred of diffidence, exuding teeth-grating swagger and confidence, so much so that Leonard wanted to punch him just for the look on his handsome face.

“I said, how did you get in here?” He smoothly pulled the ceremonial knife from his belt and used it to point at Kirk, cursing that he’d left his normal pair in the case next to his bed. The one in his hand was supposed to be exchanged with Jocelyn’s during the ceremony, and although the balance was better suited to her smaller hand, it was still wickedly sharp. And Leonard had always had a penchant for knives.

“Transporter beam.” Kirk barely glanced at the blade, but his smile widened as he looked at Leonard, his gaze much more interested than before.

“Pull the other one, kid. This place has shields out the wazoo to block transporters.”

“Yeah, good ones, too. Took Scotty a while to get around them. Almost an hour.”

“Almost an—the hell you say! The Emperor doesn’t even have—”

“You are a chatty one, aren’t you? I’d love to keep going with the twenty questions, but people will be expecting you soon, so we need to get going.” Kirk pulled out a communicator and flipped it open. “Scotty, two to beam up in ten seconds. Mark.”

“What the—Security!” Leonard shouted, like he should have when he’d first turned around, and he leapt backwards, knife low and ready.

But Kirk was already following, dodging the first swipe with quick steps, ducking under the second and hitting Leonard's forearm during his third attempt so his fingers spasmed, almost dropping the knife. But Kirk used that moment while Leonard recovered to grab his wrist, twisting and pulling it up as he moved behind Leonard's back, applying pressure until Leonard gasped and Kirk was able to snatch the knife from his grip.

"Zero," Kirk whispered in his ear, causing an involuntary shiver, and the world as he knew it disappeared.

\-----

The first thing Leonard saw when the sparkling lights had faded was an evil-looking man sneering at him. His day was just getting fucking better and better.

Kirk loosened his grip, and Leonard wrenched his arm free, moving off the transporter pad and away from both men.

“Now, don’t be alarmed, McCoy.” Leonard’s lip curled at the condescending smile on his kidnapper’s face. “We’re not going to hurt you. If you cooperate.”

“I’m not _alarmed_.” He undid the buttons on his stiff formal coat, Kirk’s eyebrows lifting, and shrugged it off his shoulders. Damn thing must have weighed almost seven kilograms. Then he pulled his phaser free from the holster at the small of his back. “I _am_ , however, pissed off. Give me a shuttle off of this junk heap, and I’ll only leave you a scar instead of crippling you for life.”

Kirk raised a hand, although he never took his eyes off of Leonard. “Don’t do anything stupid, Scotty. He’s my future wife after all.” Scotty settled back on his chair, grinning, his arms folded across his chest.

Leonard spluttered. “What—what—you—are you _insane_?” It would certainly explain a lot. “Your future _wife_?”

“I didn’t know about the phaser,” Kirk said conversationally, ignoring his questions. “Did you know about the phaser, Scotty?”

Leonard was happy to see the grin wilt. “No, sir.”

“I feel like this would have been important information to know, don’t you think so, Scotty?”

Scotty flinched, and he glared at Leonard as if the whole damn mess was his fault. “Aye, Captain.”

“Hmm. I wonder what other weapons you’ve got hidden on you, McCoy.” Kirk made a show of looking him up and down, the condescending amusement on his face making Leonard’s finger twitch.

“Come closer and find out.”

“Oh, I will. I will. First things first though.”

His eyes narrowed, and he tensed, remembering how quickly Kirk had moved before.

“Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy, born 2227, son of David and Eleanora. Attended the University of Mississippi for your undergraduate degree, and instead of rejoining the family fold, went on to study medicine against your parents’ wishes.”

“What are you—”

“You continued to rebel against your parents by holding a real job, the first McCoy to do so in almost eight generations. You still volunteer at free clinics. You lobby for health reform, including free medical care to everyone, not just citizens of the Empire.”

He snorted. “So you can do some research. Big deal. That’s all public—”

“You like potato salad, make a mean dish of Southern baked beans and keep a private collection of vintage Saurian brandy. Shall I go on?”

“What,” he began, raising the phaser higher and pointing it steadily at Kirk, “do you want from me?”

“I want you to marry me, McCoy.” Kirk smiled, looking innocent and young and harmless. Liar.

“And why the hell would I do a fool thing like that?”

“Because I can give you freedom. More than the simple financial independence you wanted from your parents.”

“Ha! What do you take me for, an idiot?”

“Not at all. I would never marry an idiot.” Did the guy ever stop smiling?

“Yeah? So what makes you think—” Jim’s eyes flicked infinitesimally to the right, and Leonard twisted, pointing the phaser at the more immediate threat. Damn it, he’d gotten so involved in talking to Kirk, he’d taken his eyes off—but Scotty was still sitting at the console, arms folded across his chest. Leonard turned back, but it was already too late.

The last thing he heard as his body jerked, convulsing a little from the energy screaming through his body was, “You’re kind of a nice guy, McCoy. Me? Not so much.”

\-----

When he came to, he was chained to the bed, his arms attached to opposing bedposts. “What the—” He tugged on the manacles and listened to the metal clang against the wooden headboard in disbelief.

“Glad to see you’re awake, McCoy.”

Leonard nearly dislocated a shoulder as he jerked and yanked his arms in his attempt to reach the smugly amused bastard in the chair across from him, cursing all the while and telling him in minute detail what he was going to do to him once he got free.

Kirk’s eyebrows rose during his litany at a few points, but he didn’t seem worried, if the wide, jaw-cracking grin that spread across his face was anything to go by. “Keep talking like that, McCoy, and I’m going to have to take back what I said about you before.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snarled, chest heaving as he finally gave up, the chains clinking cheerfully as if to mock him.

“When I called you a nice guy, of course!” Kirk winked, chuckling when Leonard bared his teeth in response. “I have to say, McCoy, you are _much_ more interesting than I thought you were going to be.”

“Like I care if you find me interesting.” He needed to keep Kirk talking, which luckily, didn’t seem like it would be that hard. The bastard apparently loved the sound of his own voice. Leonard didn’t know how long they’d been gone, but his parents would be scouring the galaxy, looking for him, and the tracer embedded in his body meant it was only a matter of time.

“Well, you should, McCoy.” The smile changed, sharpened, and Leonard froze, prey in the face of a predator. “I admit, the plan was just to marry you, use your connections and money to become an Imperial Citizen and join Starfleet, then either slit your throat or keep you on Earth as far away from me as possible depending on my mood. I rethought that idea after meeting Jocelyn.”

“You know Jocelyn?” Leonard asked incredulously, then wanted to hit himself. Like _that_ was the most important thing Kirk had said.

“Just Biblically.” Kirk licked his lips appreciatively. “We narrowed down which room you’d be, but we still had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. We got it wrong the first time. Still, what was wrong for the mission was right for me.”

“You _fucked_ Jocelyn?” Leonard gaped, not knowing how to feel, although pissed as all hell was kind of covering all the bases.

Kirk hummed approvingly. “I have say, that fiancée of yours is a hellcat in bed.”

“Why you—” He was going to kill him. _Kill_ him.

“You’re lucky I kidnapped you though. Let’s just say, she had plans, and you weren’t in them.”

“What?”

“Mmmhmm.” Kirk started picking at his nails, but he kept his eyes on Leonard, soaking in every expression. “After giving birth to an heir to ensure her share of the fortune, she was planning to chemically castrate you by means of this little poison she got from some little backwater planet, no known antidote. Deteriorates in the body within twenty four hours of contact, but not before it has an effect. You would’ve spent the rest of your life scouring the universe for a cure while she took care of things back on Earth. And if that didn’t work, if for some reason you still wanted to play house, she was going to arrange an accident at a free clinic. No one would suspect any foul play if a crazy, jumped up addict attacked one of the doctors, now would they?”

“You’re—you’re lying.”

“No. No, McCoy, I’m not. But don’t feel too let down. She was still fond of you, even with all those thoughts of murder and mayhem, and she said she would have made sure it was painless.” He grinned happily, as if they weren’t talking about Leonard’s death. “But it did get me to thinking, if a woman like that can develop feelings for you, then you had to be more interesting than what it says in your files.”

“Fuck you,” he said, stunned and hurt and reeling.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

That got Leonard’s attention, and all thoughts of shocked betrayal fled as Kirk stood and pulled off his shirt. “What? Now see here—”

“You know, McCoy,” Kirk said, and he tossed the shirt to the side, all lean muscle, smooth skin and treacherous grace, “I’m beginning to like you. I’ve decided to keep you around.”

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you?” he demanded as he began to use his feet to push himself further up on the bed, yanking on the restraints.

Kirk shook his head, toeing off his shoes. “Actually, if you had bothered to ask any questions about your future husband,” he said, shooting Leonard a mock-hurt look, “I could have told you just how _right_ I am for you.”

“Are you out of your ever-loving—”

“My IQ tests in the top zero-point-two percentile of all federation citizens. I’m a certified, documented genius. I have my own ship and crew. Admittedly, I’m more of a . . . hmm, I guess ‘space pirate’ could work . . . than a legally recognized captain, but that’s just a matter of time. And as you can see, I’ve got beauty as well as brains.” He spread his arms as if to prove his claim. As if Leonard hadn’t already—horrifyingly—noticed. Jim Kirk was the physical incarnation of sin. “Really, McCoy,” he said, winking, “you should count yourself lucky to have me.”

“I should—I’m not marrying you!” His cuffs thumped against the headboard, the noise loud and abrasive.

“Oh, but I think you are. Need I remind you that you are a captive on my ship? Which means I just say the word, and my crew tortures you for a few hours or jettisons you out the airlock.”

“Then do it,” Leonard snarled, “because—”

“Oops, I almost forgot. On top of all my other sterling qualities, I’m ambitious. Do you know what all that means, McCoy? It means ‘the world’s mine oyster, which I with sword will open.’”

Leonard blinked. He didn’t know what to make of Kirk. He’d just cheerfully threatened to maim and/or kill Leonard a few seconds ago, and now he was quoting Shakespeare? “Fuck you and your—”

“We’re getting to that. Be patient. Where was I? Oh, yes. How would you like to join Starfleet with me, McCoy? Leave Earth. Go far, far away where your parents can’t reach you, where you can research all you want, take care of a whole shipload of people and discover everything there is to know about anything you want to know about?”

“Go take a flying leap off a—”

“Five years. That’s how long each deployment lasts. Five _years_ , McCoy. Think of everything you could accomplish within five years.”

He didn’t need to think about it, had thought of nothing else for the past few years other than what he could possibly accomplish if left to his own devices. But join Starfleet? Him? When even the short shuttle rides from city to city were enough to make him sick?

Something must have shown on his face, because Kirk said, “I’ll get you past your fear of flying.” Leonard narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going to let something that small get in the way of our future together.”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve—”

“And that’s just for starters.” Kirk eyes were gleaming, and Leonard was tempted to call him crazy, but he didn’t really believe it. Kirk’s look was too calculating, like he was already counting down the days until he reached whatever pinnacle he was aiming for, like he could see each and every step he needed to take. “After a few stints, after I spend some time building up my name and using your family’s connections . . .” Kirk licked his lips again, the lust all too apparent, although this time it wasn’t at a remembered conquest or at Leonard tied up in front of him. It was for something he could already see, even though it was far off in the future.

And fucking hell, for some reason, Leonard could almost see it, too.

“Freedom.” Blue eyes blazed with sincerity, and he knew it was an act, just one more trick by a magician who had a whole bag of them, but . . . But. “Marry me, McCoy, and I’ll guarantee it.”

“Free from everything except for you, you mean.”

“Ah, well there is that.” Kirk’s mouth crooked. “But you’ll find that I take care of what’s mine. I told you, you interest me now.”

“And later? When I don’t interest you anymore?”

He shrugged, still pinning Leonard with his gaze. “Who knows what will happen in the future, McCoy? For all I know, with all your medical knowledge, you could kill me in my sleep. I’m willing to take that bet. As for you, well, I can tell you two things: one, growing up poor means you hold on to things, no matter how big or small. And two, someone would have to break my fingers before I ever let go of anything that’s mine.”

Leonard didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how he could be considering _any_ of it. But he was. He looked and weighed and wondered what life would be like out from under his parents’ thumbs.

The sound of Kirk’s zipper brought him out of his thoughts real fast, however.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” It was a fight not to back up further on the bed.

“Sweetening the offer.” Jim grinned. “I fucking rock in bed. Besides, it’s kind of expected of me. It’s what space pirates do after all, plunder and pillage,” he explained, as if Leonard didn’t already get the damn point.

Leonard was flabbergasted to realize Kirk was actually serious, that he thought . . . _pillaging_ Leonard would somehow convince him to _stay_ with him.

“Come near me with anything that sticks out, and I will _rip it off_.”

Kirk looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “Deal.”

“ _What_?”

Kirk closed his pants, which made things one hundred percent better, but then he crawled onto the end of the bed, and that made things two hundred percent worse.

“Get the hell away from me!” Leonard yanked on the chains so hard he could feel the manacles cutting into his skin.

“Now, McCoy,” Kirk said chidingly, blue eyes dark with amusement and desire as he moved forward, full of intent, “you set the terms, and I agreed to them. Don’t act the part of the blushing virgin now.”

“Are you _insane_? I did not—”

“Nothing that sticks out. I got it. No dick, no tongue even unless it stays in my mouth, and you’re probably including fingers in the category as well. That’s okay though. I can show you a good time without—”

Kirk barely managed to get his forearm up in time to keep Leonard’s leg from impacting with the side of his head, but the blow still managed to knock him onto the mattress. Leonard took advantage of his sudden superior position to drive his heel down, intending to break Kirk’s nose—except Kirk caught his foot, shoving it to the side. It upset Leonard’s balance, and Kirk was able to slither up the bed, using Leonard’s momentum to push him all the way onto his side. The chains twisted, crashing against the wood as Leonard fought to right himself, cursing and thrashing.

Kirk laughed breathlessly, his weight pinning Leonard’s legs down, and Leonard couldn’t do anything about it, the chains keeping him from turning all the way onto his stomach, Kirk’s body preventing him from getting onto his back. “Looks like I have to take back that nice guy comment after all.”

“I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking—” Kirk grabbed a pillow and mashed it onto his face, muffling his threats, and grabbed the back of Leonard’s pants, the fabric tearing with an angry snarl.

Leonard shouted, bucking, redoubling his struggles. The blood was rushing in his ears, and he could barely breathe, his body jerking as Kirk wrenched the cloth down even further. The clang of the chains was cacophonous, and Kirk was—

Leonard shuddered, contorted and contained. Kirk was _sucking_.

Kirk’s lips were still on him as he licked Leonard’s opening, circling it and running the flat of his tongue against it, wet and slick. Leonard made a high-pitched sound of surprise, frozen in shock. He’d had male lovers offer to rim him in the past, but he’d never accepted, turned off by how unsanitary the whole thing was.

How could he have known?

Kirk’s fingers spread his ass cheeks a little further, and it was only then that Leonard realized Kirk wasn’t holding the pillow down on his face anymore, and he shook his head, dislodging it and taking a huge gulp of air as his fingers wrapped around the chains, holding on for dear life as Kirk continued to lick and suck all the while.

“Marry me, McCoy.”

“ _Die_.”

Kirk’s shoulders shook against the back of his thighs as he laughed, his tongue quivering in a disturbingly distracting fashion, and Leonard bit his lip to keep from moaning. It wasn’t long, however, before he couldn’t stop himself.

There was simply nothing to compare the sensation to, by turns soft and rough as Kirk changed his attack. Even fingertips covered in lube couldn’t mimic the feeling, too hard and small and rigid. Kirk’s tongue was wet and mobile and the surface area capable of touching Leonard all at one time was mind-boggling. And Kirk kept alternating between obscene swipes and swirls of his tongue with the sucking, and the sucking, oh, fuck, the _sucking_ . . . light pulls that teased and had Leonard shivering as he fought the urge to push back, strong ones that had him crying out, heady with the overwhelming pleasure.

It was torture.

Leonard knew he should be fighting, knew that the smartest thing to do would be to keep Kirk as far away from him as possible. The likelihood of Kirk actually ordering his crew to torture or kill Leonard was extremely small. He hadn’t gone to all that effort to kidnap him just to dispose of him at the first sign of resistance. And time was on his side. His parents would bring down the wrath of the entire Imperial Armada if necessary to get him back. But.

But.

Kirk kept pressing his tongue against him, hinting at first, and then basically yelling at Leonard that if he’d just take back his words, Kirk would push inside him, would fuck him on that talented tongue, and Leonard could barely imagine what that would feel like, but he wanted it, wanted it so badly his teeth were aching from how hard he was clenching his jaw to keep the words locked inside. And he didn’t know how it had happened, or when, but Kirk had rolled him slightly so he was firmly on his right side, left thigh raised so Kirk could have easier access, and that meant he couldn’t even rub his cock against the bedspread, a veritable lake of precum pooling next to his stomach, couldn’t do anything to hurry things along, no matter how much he wanted to, Kirk’s hands keeping him in place.

“I bet you want to come right now.” Kirk’s voice was matter-of-fact, and Leonard let out a long whoosh of air at the sound, his body shuddering at the sudden cessation of activity. His arms were almost numb from being stretched in one position for so long, and his legs . . . he tried to close his legs, not knowing when had they spread so wide, but Kirk just tightened his grip, keeping him in place, and Leonard’s cock liked that so much, another pulse of precum came almost shooting out of him. “Ready to agree to marry me yet?”

“You are out of your fucking mind.” It probably would have sounded better if his voice wasn’t so hoarse, if he couldn’t feel his hole contracting, opening and closing as if begging for Kirk’s tongue.

Kirk hummed. “You know, McCoy, we’ve been doing this for, what? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? I could keep this up for _hours_. _Hours_ where you wouldn’t be allowed to come. Are you sure you don’t want to rethink your answer?”

“I hate you so much.” Fuck, had he ever felt this empty before? He was teetering on the edge of orgasm, and he wanted, fuck, he wanted—

“You know, I really do think you’re warming up to me.” Kirk pushed his leg even higher, blowing a small stream of air against his flushed skin, and Leonard groaned, hips thrusting forward into nothing.

“How about this then? We play cards for it.”

“ _What_?” Leonard blinked, forcing himself to stop moving, unable to believe he’d just heard what he’d thought he’d heard.

“One hand of poker. I win, you marry me. You win, I let you go.”

“You really are cra—aaaaa!” Bones shook, voice low and desperate as Kirk pressed his closed lips to his entrance, making small nibbling kisses that drained his resistance, made him ache to give in.

“One game, McCoy.” Kirk began to suck once again, little short pulses, his tongue flicking against Leonard in between each one. “I’m a man of my word. You win, I let you go.”

It couldn’t be that easy. A man of his word? Leonard was supposed to buy that just because Kirk had kept his cock in his pants? That could have—

"Just think about it." He cried out when Kirk pushed his leg even higher, opening him unbearably wide, when Kirk began to suck with determination, Kirk’s other hand wiggling between them to tap lightly against his perineum, sending little shocks of pleasure through Leonard’s body that had his head roaring, until he could barely hear over the din of his own body’s responses.

Kirk played his body like a virtuoso, skillfully building the orgasm with slick and debauched touches, promising ecstasy with the patience of a faithful suitor, only to wrench it away at the last second, leaving Leonard wracked and undone, shaking in his restraints as he drenched the sheets under him with his precum, fighting against surrender with every labored breath. And when Kirk decided he’d calmed enough, when he’d decided he’d suffered enough, he put his mouth back on Leonard and started it all over again.

Think about it? He couldn't think of anything else.

Leonard burned with shame at the sob that escaped him after the third such buildup, chest heaving and suffering written in every line of his body. Kirk pulled back and rubbed his chin over the smooth skin behind Leonard’s testicles, his breath hot against Leonard’s ass as he pressed deeply against his prostate externally, making Leonard fight against Kirk’s hands in an effort not to escape but to get even closer. “McCoy . . .”

Sometime over the last several minutes Leonard had drawn the leg Kirk wasn't holding up nearly to his chest as he put himself on offering, greedy and pleading without words for completion, for reprieve, and Kirk slid one finger down his thigh, swerving away just before he could touch Leonard's cock or testicles. It broke Leonard.

“Yes, damn it, yes!” He closed his eyes and tried to believe that even if Kirk demanded it, he wouldn't beg.

He felt the smile against his skin and stiffened, as if he still had his pride, but then Kirk plunged his tongue into Leonard, spearing him open so he shouted, wailed as cruel fingers burrowed in next to that tongue, and Leonard began to spasm, pleasure crashing like a storm through him, all jagged bolts of lightning and thunder, and Leonard was too far gone to care.

\-----

Afterward, after he’d gotten dressed in clothes Kirk had found for him, and after he’d stared at the full house in Kirk’s hands, jacks over aces, Leonard accepted the glass of bourbon—no wonder Kirk had enjoyed his so much—and took a drink instead of answering Kirk’s, “So should I call Eleanora ‘mom,’ or would that be too much?”

He waited until Kirk swallowed before lashing out and punching him in the jaw, the glass flying against the wall and shattering as Kirk's head snapped back satisfyingly.

Kirk managed to keep his feet, and he wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, barely glancing at the blood before wiping it on his pants leg. His smile was tinged with red but supremely amused, and Leonard's eyes narrowed at the sudden feeling that he'd passed some test. “More and more interesting the longer I know you, McCoy.”

\-----

The wedding took place an hour later. There was no reason to keep _his_ word, no reason to stand there and let Scotty of all people bind their lives together, Scotty whose cheek was red from where Kirk had backhanded him after he’d grinned at Leonard crudely. But there he was, his body still ringing with the aftereffects of Kirk’s attentions, the blackness of space and all the freedom it represented visible behind them.

Kirk smiled when Leonard said, “I do,” smiled and took his hand, sucked on his fingers in front of the whole crew while Scotty finished the ceremony, stealing what little of remained of Leonard’s dignity and his breath with it, cock pulsing in his borrowed pants.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

He opened his mouth to object, because no fucking way in hell was he the—but then Kirk was kissing him, was holding him with one arm while stealthily sliding something that felt like a knife into Leonard’s pocket with the other, and he tensed, realizing Kirk was giving him permission, was telling him Kirk knew he could handle himself, and . . . and Scotty really needed to understand what it meant to piss off the man who was going to treat any and all of his medical problems in the future.

He tested the edge of the blade absently with his thumb after they separated. Razor sharp. He glanced at Kirk, who winked playfully at him. He’d somehow gone and married a fucking space pirate, but . . . he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

Still, he couldn’t wait to get his knives back.


End file.
